But whence is it that action arises in the consciousness of man? In its
first stage it springs from the struggle between diverse conflicting
passions. But no sooner has it raised itself somewhat--and this is true,
if we examine it closely, of the first stage also--than it would seem
to be solely due to the conflict between a passion and a moral law,
between a duty and a desire. Hence the eagerness with which modern
dramatists have plunged into all the problems of contemporary morality;
and it may safely be said that at this moment they confine themselves
almost exclusively to the discussion of these different problems.
This movement was initiated by the dramas of Alexandre Dumas fils,
dramas which brought the most elementary of moral conflicts on to the
stage; dramas, indeed, whose entire existence was based on problems such
as the spectator, who must always be regarded as the ideal moralist,
would never put to himself in the course of his whole spiritual
existence, so evident is their solution. Should the faithless husband or
wife be forgiven? Is it well to avenge infidelity by infidelity? Has
the illegitimate child any rights? Is the marriage of inclination--such
is the name it bears in those regions--preferable to the marriage for
money? Have parents the right to oppose a marriage for love? Is divorce
to be deprecated when a child has been born of the union? Is the sin of
the adulterous wife greater than that of the adulterous husband? etc.,
etc.
Indeed, it may be said here that the entire French theatre of to-day,
and a considerable proportion of the foreign theatre, which is only its
echo, exist solely on questions of this kind, and on the entirely
superfluous answers to which they give rise.
On the other hand, however, the highest point of human consciousness is
attained by the dramas of Björnson, of Hauptmann, and, above all, of
Ibsen. Here we touch the limit of the resources of modern dramaturgy.
For, in truth, the further we penetrate into the consciousness of man,
the less struggle do we discover. It is impossible to penetrate far into
any consciousness unless that consciousness be very enlightened; for,
whether we advance ten steps, or a thousand, in the depths of a soul
that is plunged in darkness, we shall find nothing there that can be
unexpected, or new; for darkness everywhere will only resemble itself.
But a consciousness that is truly enlightened will possess passions and
desires infinitely less exacting, infinitely more peaceful and patient,
more salutary, abstract and general, than are those that reside in the
ordinary consciousness. Thence, far less struggle--or at least a
struggle of far less violence--between these nobler and wiser passions;
and this for the very reason that they have become vaster and loftier;
for if there be nothing more restless, destructive and savage than a
dammed-up stream, there is nothing more tranquil, beneficent and silent
than the beautiful river whose banks ever widen.